


Happy New Year!

by chaoticlivi



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Accidental Plot, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, New Year, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9149740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticlivi/pseuds/chaoticlivi
Summary: They say whatever you’re doing at midnight on January 1 is what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.





	1. 2013

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, everyone! It's been a long while since I started it, but I think it's finally time to archive this. Every year at precisely midnight on January 1, I've uploaded smut, and I've been doing this since 2013. Over the years, it turned into a sort of plotty thing, though that was not my original intention!
> 
> I have to say that sometimes headcanons bouncing around the fandom end up in here, because they seem so incredibly right, but I usually forget where they came from. I've tried hard to formulate my own ideas (as much as fluffy porn with a side of plot can ever be original), but if you see a headcanon in here that you know has to be specifically yours and you want a mention, please, PLEASE let me know.
> 
> An important mention: this started YEARS ago. The early stuff? I was a complete newbie.
> 
> A PSA: Always use protection! I may not have put it in every single chapter because Soul and Maka are in a committed relationship, know each other's health conditions, and use magical birth control/hormones/implants/whatever fits them best, but you're not a manga fanfic character, so remember to be safe.

They say whatever you’re doing at midnight on January 1 is what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.

Maka didn’t for one second believe it. A person could change courses at any time; whether it was January 1 or July 1 made no difference.

But one thing about midnight traditions appealed to her - because she wanted to kiss Soul at midnight, as she knew would be happening with so many established couples. The object of her ponderings had been acting exceptionally affectionate over the past few weeks and oddly nervous for all of this particular evening. She hoped this was a good sign, a sign that he was having the same ideas she was. She didn’t know what else it could possibly mean; it seemed he had spent the entire month building up to…something.

(The tension between them had been building up for years. When they were 13, they had both stubbornly insisted that they’d never fall for each other - and then got angry at each other for saying such things. At age 14, they insisted they were just friends. When they were 15, they admitted to their friends how deep their admiration for each other went, but it wasn’t the same as romance, and anyway, it wouldn’t be smart for a weapon and a meister to date, would it? At age 16, they both suspected they had fallen in love. At age 17, each knew, separately, they were in love - and deeply regretted letting that New Year’s Eve pass without a kiss. But what was done was done, and finding other moments was anxiety-provoking.)

Now would be another chance, though.

She held his hand on the way to Kid’s mansion.

He’d held her hand during the party, at least when he had the opportunity. She had linked arms with him and leaned on him a lot more than she really needed to, because she liked his sturdiness.

He’d asked if she wanted a drink, and gone to retrieve one anyway when it took her too long to decide. She’d pretended to be annoyed because she knew he would wear that crooked little smirk of his.

She’d been curious and excited. He’d been twitchy and nervous.

They’d blushed every time they made eye contact, which was completely strange because Soul practically never blushed and Maka was usually able to make simple eye contact without morphing into a tomato.

He’d shot Black Star a disgruntled look when the blue-haired ninja leered suggestively at him. She had narrowed her eyes at Liz and Tsubaki’s suggestive winks whenever “the Mistletoe Incident” was brought up.

And most notably, he had bit back his snark all evening. She could tell.

And now they had a mere few seconds to the next year. Kid had a huge TV screen installed in the living room, where they watched Death City usher in the new year from the safety and relative sanity of their own private party. Patty, Liz, Tsubaki, Black Star, Kim, Jackie, Ox, Harvar, Kirikou, and Pots of Fire and Thunder were there as well, arranged around the room with desserts and noisemakers and party supplies, crazy glasses and maybe a few alcoholic beverages for which they were still technically three years too young. (Maka was among the people wearing the absurd glasses. She was shooting disapproving looks through them at Black Star, Liz, Patty, Ox, Harvar, Kirikou, and Kim, who were the drinkers.)

The whole world - well, the whole time zone, anyway - seemed to be chanting. She could practically feel it through the ground, though that was probably the audio bass from the TV. Maka turned to look at Soul’s reaction, throwing caution to the wind as their eyes met.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!”

She was shocked to find him staring back at her, eyes wide with trepidation. He swallowed and licked his lips.

“Six! Five! Four!”

She hesitated for only a moment before steeling her resolve again and standing higher on her toes to lean toward him.

“Three! Two!”

Just before Maka closed her eyes, she noticed Soul close his too, and she felt his arm come around her to pull her closer.

“One! **_Happy New Year_**!”

She felt a wave of heat crash over her heart as their lips met. The sound of the new year rushing in - “Auld Lang Syne” blaring from the TV and their friends shouting and streamers and confetti being launched in every direction - was muffled, quiet and distant compared to the kiss. Their contact was gentle, and they lingered on each other for a few moments as if to make sure it was really happening before pulling away to smile. They were dimly aware of the thunder of fireworks elsewhere in Death City.

“Happy New Year,” Maka whispered through a grin she could never have suppressed if she wanted to. Soul’s response was to lean in and kiss her again, more deeply this time. Their tongues just touched before they stopped and glanced around to see if anyone was staring.

Their friends were surprisingly tactful about the whole thing, glancing at them and then away as if to acknowledge that everyone did this at midnight and it was none of their business. Besides, a few of them - Ox and Kim, Black Star and Tsubaki - were rather busy with their own midnight snogging.

Soul pulled Maka in for a tight embrace, which she joyfully accepted; she felt his shoulders start to shake, and when she leaned back to check what was going on with him, she saw that he was chuckling.

“ _Yes_. Happy New Year,” he rumbled, grabbing both of her hands in his. She didn’t usually see him looking so ecstatic; his eyes crackled with electric enthusiasm.

“Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just…I’m really happy,” he said, kissing her again. “Also,” he added, “I’ve been waiting all night for a chance to tell you those glasses look completely ridiculous on you.”

She frowned, then ripped them from her own face and put them on his. “Now you have to wear them,” she said triumphantly.

He took his punishment as graciously as Soul ever took anything - with a roll of his eyes and a resigned sigh - then took her hand and entwined their fingers.

She kissed his neck and held him close and murmured in his ear. “By the way, this is the best New Year I’ve ever had.”

They tried to spend time at the party. Really, they did. But their faces kept gravitating toward each other and they kept hugging and more tongue was involved and eventually Jackie told them to just _get a room_ already, and Soul looked to Maka.

“Do you want to…head upstairs for the night?” he asked cautiously. Then he scratched the back of his head, a nervous habit he’d taken up more often than usual lately. “I mean it’s okay if you don’t, I know I’m being kind of…”

Maka shushed him with a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Let’s go.” She took his hand, and they headed for the room Kid had let them use for the night.

It was entirely pristine, lit by moonlight and a small lamp.

“Crap. He’s gonna throw a fit if a single thread is out of place, isn’t he?” Soul complained.

“He’s been better lately,” Maka said. “I think letting people stay here tonight is one of his attempts at being more normal.” She giggled and fell into Soul’s arms.

They began a passionate makeout session; the only place to sit was on a bed. There were two full-sized beds, and they chose one. But soon they weren’t sitting anyway. They were lying down. Hands wandered to grope progressively more intimate places. She ran her fingers through his hair; he caressed her shoulders. She rubbed his back; he wrapped around her. She let her hands wander to his ass, and well - he did the same. She felt all the muscles on his chest, and he tentatively groped her. She let him before finally palming his groin, and then they were grinding against each other like mad.

“What are we doing?” Maka asked finally.

“Uh…” Soul trailed off. “Do you want to stop?”

“Not if you don’t,” she said quietly. “But I don’t have any. You know. Protection.”

“Me neither,” he said sadly. He held his breath as she ran her hand over the thin, thin layer of fabric over his aching erection.

“We could still do…other things,” she whispered as she began cautiously scooting downward toward his crotch. He knew what she meant to do.

His face lit up, and he slipped his hand under her skirt. “Wait a second. Ladies first.”

She stopped and blushed, looking unsure. “R-really?” she asked.

“Yeah. Maka, I…” he glanced away, turning red for the millionth time tonight. “I think it’s really hot. I’ve been wanting to do this for a really long time.”

“…Wow, I never knew that,” she said, stunned.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you before now, obviously,” he teased gently. “But I…” He took a finger and rubbed it slightly between her folds (she was so wet already, and reflexively thrust toward his hand). “I want to make you come first.” It wasn’t an entirely selfless move. Soul knew how much it would turn him on to eat her out; he craved that excitement.

She turned bright red, too. “Whatever you want.”

Maka didn’t know how to start, but Soul solved that problem for her as he kissed her, removing her clothes quickly and with great gusto. Soon she was down to nothing but her underwear. He left them on, probably to be a tease.

Thinking about his teasing only turned her on more. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she identified her partner as the sexiest person on the planet.

He started by kissing the outside of her panties, working his way down, down, far between her legs. She sighed her pleasure at feeling his lips gently kiss the outside of her pussy over and over again, and she ground her hips up toward his face, far too eager to wait patiently for his teasing.

She felt him smirk, and he lifted his eyes to look up at her mischievously through his spiky bangs. “Impatient?”

“Mmm- _hnnggg_ ,” she managed to grind out, and clutched at the bedsheet.

Then she felt the tip of his tongue start lapping through her panties at the crease between her lips, gently at first.

“Ah. Harder, Soul, I need you to go _harder_.” She gyrated her hips, not wanting to disturb his movements but also wanting him to know how much she needed him to finish her. She wanted him so badly it hurt; she literally ached for his touch.

In response, he moved his hand between her legs, rubbing circles with his thumb over her opening while he kept licking the fabric that covered the area above her clit. Maka bit her lip and threw her head back, about to urge him on again; she sat up, startled, when she felt his mouth leave her body, but he had started pulling her underwear off altogether. She moaned a little in relief. Soul made eye contact even as he went back to kissing her privates.

(The expression on her face…wow. He would have to remember that forever. Seeing her exposed and so turned on from this angle was sheer perfection and the embodiment of everything that could ever make him hard.)

He didn’t use his fingers again for a while. Instead, he lapped around her opening, almost-but-not-quite putting the tip of his tongue inside; then he moved up, slowly circling her clitoris. Maka watched with rapt attention, and put her hand in his hair, stroking his scalp affectionately and saying things like “Ahah, _yes_ ” and “More there…that’s good” when he did particularly well. She could tell he was experimenting a little, but the fact that this was his first time only thrilled her more. In the back of her mind she wondered how he could have known where to begin; it worried her a little. _Probably just some perverted video or magazine_ , she thought dryly.

But anyway, he had _talent_.

Finally - _finally_ \- Soul covered her with as much of his mouth as he could manage. He licked from her opening to her clit and back with broad, lazy strokes between her folds.

(She was soft on every surface, lips swollen with desire, fine hair trimmed short. It was so satisfying, having his mouth full of her. Difficult though it was to maneuver, he felt he could do this forever.)

She remembered something she had once read in a moment of sexual curiosity: _participate. Give him tips. Tell him what you like_.

“Mmf. Soul, harder. Faster. I like lots of pressure,” she gasped.

He hummed in agreement and proceeded to exert more pressure with his tongue, licking with a hard, steady rhythm, just catching her clit at the top of each stroke. She couldn’t help grinding into him a little bit, hips moving almost on their own.

At long last, he brought his hand back to her, concentrating his tongue on her clit and easing a finger inside her, moving it as he suspected would please her on the way in. Maka pushed her hands against the mattress, desperate to reach her release as she enveloped his digit entirely.

“’S'at okay?” she heard him ask gruffly.

“It’s amazing,” she said hoarsely. After relishing that feeling for a couple minutes, she said, “Hey. Can you…add another one?” In response, he slid another finger inside and continued licking between her lips. She caught his warm, loving ruby eyes and felt something unravel inside her.

Maka found herself thrusting furiously against Soul’s hand and mouth; she felt a thrill run down her back as she realized they were establishing a workable rhythm together.

(He ground his boner against the bed, unable to contain himself.)

She tensed her legs, every muscle in her body straining toward orgasm. She could feel it rushing in slowly, building up between her legs and under his tongue and around his fingers; she vocalized all her desires to keep him going strong, a halting, inconsistent chant of “ah"s and "yes"es.

(He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with himself if she was too tired to return the favor after this. There was no way he was gonna ask her for it. He’d probably just have to spend some quality time in the bathroom or something. But until then, watching her pleasure was bringing Soul a lot of pleasure, too. He moaned against her as he rubbed against the mattress, making more noise than he’d dreamed he would; this should by all accounts be considered "uncool,” and yet it felt incredibly expressive. He did it again. And again.)

Soul’s deep voice, fueled by passion, may have been what did it for her.

She felt the goosebumps start on her shoulders and run down her back, through her limbs; she became strangely aware of the tips of her fingers and toes. But only for a few seconds, because she wanted to focus on the liquid heat that was circling around just inside her.

“Here I come, Soul,” she groaned huskily.

She slipped over the golden edge of pleasure at just the right pace, as though sliding blissfully over the ridge of a hill. Her first throbbing wave of gratification rolled in, strong and long-lasting; then another, then another, gathering speed.

Until finally things slowed down and faded. Maka was still panting, and she lay still for a few moments, eyes closed, relishing the aftershocks.

Soul came to lie down next to her, erection rubbing (inadvertently) against her leg; she kissed him deeply and whispered in his ear that he was amazing and grabbed his head in both her hands and said “ _thank you_.”

Then she grabbed his cock through his pants and grinned. “This means it’s your turn.”

She started by working her way down his front, peppering his boner with little kisses through his clothes before helping him rip off his shirt and pants and boxers.

She was far too impatient to leave his underwear on for any length of time.

Then she jerked him slowly, pulling from the base of his shaft to the head, holding him far more gently than necessary.

“Grab it,” he groaned. “I want to really feel you there, Maka.”

So she did, and it was _heavenly_. Soul exhaled, a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He couldn’t decide whether to leave his eyes open or close them. Watching her seemed like the better option. She started pumping faster and faster, curiously glancing between his face and his dick. He gave her a smile that was intended to be encouraging, although he mostly felt his weakness showing through it.

(Maka had never seen that look in his eyes before. It was vulnerability mixed with desire and pure adoration, and she wanted to see it over and over again.)

She returned his smile with a mischievous edge, and leaned in toward his naked head, once again pressing it to her lips for kisses. She lapped at the underside with the tip of her tongue, eliciting an overjoyed little “ _yes!!_ ” from her weapon, and moved her tongue out further and further, until she was tracing hot, wet circles all around his head.

(She had not thought much about it before, but realized she hadn’t been expecting it to feel so good in her mouth, so hard and hot and smooth and thick.)

Soul watched, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as she put as much of him as she could fit in her mouth. Continuing to grasp him with her hand, she sucked his cock as hard as she could and rubbed it with her tongue from every angle she could reach.

He let out a moan and fell back against the bed with his eyes closed, only to glance back up a moment later because Maka was so addicting to watch. He was brought another step closer to bliss when he met her vivid eyes again, filled with fascination.

She watched him carefully as she began to bob her head up and down and pull him in and out of her mouth, stroking him now with her hand _and_ her tongue. He thrust just enough to placate the natural urge.

(The warm glow of satisfaction was still alive in Maka after the orgasm Soul had given her, but it didn’t stave off another round of arousal. She had never expected to enjoy giving oral sex so much before. She kept imagining him deep inside her, and rubbed her thighs together to relieve some of the heat. Watching his reactions had to be her new favorite activity; that combined with the pleasure of feeling every little detail of his cock inside her mouth inspired a low, satisfied moan as she closed her eyes in ecstasy.)

Soul grinned and let his head fall back while he moaned too - quite a bit louder than he had intended - as he felt Maka’s voice rumble through his rigid dick. That seemed to encourage her, because she repositioned herself and kept on licking and sucking and jerking, punctuating her motions with many well-placed sighs and groans.

“Oh my god _Maka_ ,” Soul breathed.

She hummed loudly and with great enthusiasm in response, and redoubled her efforts at jerking him off. He bit his lip; clutching desperately at the bed sheets was not enough. Instead, he gently buried his fingers in her hair, guiding her head just a little without interrupting her surprisingly skilled movement.

He could feel the pressure building, heat coursing through his cock.

This was his favorite part. It was always his favorite part, knowing what was about to happen before it was over…

Wait. How would _she_ feel about what was going to happen?

“Maka,” he said urgently. “Maka. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come in your mouth, like…right now.”

She just had time to look  up at him again and raise her eyebrows, continuing her work as passionately as ever.

(She hadn’t really thought about what she would do when this moment arrived. But after the sheer joy of sucking him off after receiving such intense pleasure from his tongue and fingers, she wanted to take in all of him, completely, not leave a drop of him anywhere. Was it gratitude? Did she find it sexy? Maybe some of both.)

He understood, and let himself go.

Once again he sighed, not intending to moan; his voice came through anyway, low and raw with euphoria. He felt the throbbing begin; he clenched his teeth in concentration, and she didn’t stop moving even as he shot hot, long, thick strings of his ecstasy into her mouth.

It became a little too much, and he held her in a way that he hoped would signify he needed her to be gentler. She slowly brought her movements to a halt, caressing him gently with her tongue and still refusing to open her mouth.

After his cock had mostly stopped twitching, she swallowed (oh jeez oh jeez oh jeez he never truly expected anything this hot to happen to him in his life), then let him go as gently as she could and gave him a smile.

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up to his face, turning to the side so she wouldn’t have to lie on top of him. “Why are you so freaking _perfect_?” he whispered in her ear before kissing her all over, her lips and her forehead and her hair and her eyelashes and the tip of her nose.

“…It was really that good?” she asked shyly.

He laughed. “Yeah, it was really that good.” Then he paused. “Uh. Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

“I could ask the same of you,” she said defensively.

“Well…” he answered. “I haven’t done this _too_ recently. Promise you won’t be mad?”

Maka quirked an eyebrow. “Depends what it is,” she said edgily.

He was afraid of the ramifications, but couldn’t back out at this point, and lying was out of the question. “Well, I…was really curious so I kinda…watchedsomestuffaboutit.”

Maka’s face lit up. “Really? Really?” She grinned triumphantly. “I knew it.”

Soul pouted. “Doesn’t sound like you knew it.”

“I was worried it might have been something else,” she admitted. “Like that you’d been with someone I never knew about.”

Soul scoffed. “Nope. Not while you were in my life, Maka.”

“Good. Because you’re the only one I trust enough to do this with,” she said. “And…I should tell you. I watched some stuff, too. And read some stuff. About how to do it.”

He grinned. “Oh, I see. When was it that you turned into a pervert all of a sudden?”

“I’m not a pervert,” she defended quickly. “This was when I was like…sixteen.”

“Ah. You know, Maka, I always knew you had a side like this…”

She gave him a wry grin. “Yeah, okay. And I always knew you had a dirty mind.”

“Not as bad as you think, though!” Soul said.

“Maybe not. Because I trust you,” Maka continued, giving him a soft kiss. “And anyway, you’re…really good at what you do.”

She reclined in his arms for a while, both glad they had remembered to lock the door. They could lie there naked together. There was a window, but it was high off the ground and there was no way anyone could see in. Outside, there would occasionally still be fireworks in the sky from somewhere above the city.

“Happy New Year, Soul,” Maka said again as she nuzzled him.

“Happy doesn’t even begin to describe it.”


	2. 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soul and Maka's second New Year as romantic partners.

Their second New Year together began outside. It was cold, as early January usually is in Boston, but it didn’t matter, because it put roses in her cheeks and fuck if that wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

At first, Maka had been a bit unenthusiastic about spending this time in Boston, as she’d never been away from Death City for midnight on the 31st, but thankfully, most of their close friends were there, too. The trip had been a combination of Shibusen business and visiting friends and family. Soul had gotten her to see it as an adventure, and now she was smiling as widely as he’d ever seen, eyes all bright.

The noisy public countdown had started, and she used one of her hands to hold his while the other was balled up in an excited fist. Soul didn’t say a word out loud, but he listened to her and felt each number she shouted along with the crowd resonate deep within in his chest.

And all the energy he built up, he channeled into the passion of the kiss he gave her when she turned to him in the midst of the _**happy New Year!**_

“Remember last year, Soul?” she murmured into his mouth.

“Yes. It was literally one minute ago.”

She used her slightly-overlong jacket sleeves to slap his arms playfully while he laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Pfft. Yeah. Obviously I remember. But look,” he gestured vaguely toward both of them, clad in their newest clothes. “We’re so much cooler this year.”

“Damn right.” Maka put her hands on her hips and posted confidently.

“Hey losers, are we gonna party or what?” Black Star’s voice interrupted. He was already dragging Tsubaki toward some destination only he knew.

It turned out to be some dance club that their Shibusen IDs got them into.

The place was fun for about an hour, but Soul always tired quickly of social dancing, to which Maka was sensitive this time. Before he even asked, she suggested they go back to the hotel. Then she winked, which was something he thought she should do more often. The whole way back, she held on to his elbow, which he teased her about because it was quaint and old-fashioned and prudish.

She stuck her tongue out, then pretended to ignore him and reminisced about the year before.

The hotel floor was not, by any stretch of the imagination, quiet. But by the time they got in the suite they shared with their teammates, it was quiet _enough_ , and Soul locked the door to their private bedroom.

He sat down on the bed to take off his shoes when Maka crept up behind him, kissing the back of his neck. He hummed in contentment as she put her arms around him.

Her hands fondled him through his pants.

“How’s this for prudish?” she whispered in his ear. Soul grinned wickedly, feeling his arousal coming on immediately. He said nothing and instead turned to kiss her, his teeth grazing her lips gently.

Unlike last year, this was nothing new to them. They’d spent twelve months getting to know each other’s bodies intimately (as well as practicing safety), and moments like these were not exactly few and far between.

They left the room lights off. The lights from the city outside were adequate to see by, and everything felt more private this way. It took almost no time for them to shed their clothes, which settled, forgotten, around the foot and sides of the plush hotel bed. They kissed each other all over from head to toe; admittedly, he may have focused on her beautiful breasts, and she on the V shape of his pelvic bone.

Maka wrapped her arms and legs all around him, pulling him over herself with a giggle. He clambered, with her holding on, closer to the head of the bed before settling his naked body on top of hers. She ground her wet, naked lips tantalizingly against his hard length, and he kissed her over and over before finally laugh-growling into her ear, “Auugghhh _Maka_ , why so horny all of a sudden?”

“It’s been exactly a year, Soul! I just…want to celebrate.”

She had a point. They would be going out tomorrow, but this could be an even more intimate celebration.

“Me too.” He grinned - she couldn’t see, but she could feel it against her skin - and joined her desirous humping.

Sex may be a lifelong learning process, but the past year had put them off to an excellent start. He knew by now how to make everything fit together in a way that would drive her mad, and she knew how to push him to the very edge in seconds. They laughed quietly, gently, when they both moaned at once as he slipped in.

He felt her soul reaching out for his with a question, a little desperate: _Will you resonate with me? Please?_  Exhausting though it would be for both of them, she wanted to him to _really_ feel every throb of the pleasure he gave her, as she wanted to feel his.

He answered by embracing her soul.

Every single time they did this, he was overwhelmed anew.

Neither noticed anything else, each far too wrapped up in the music and excitement and emotionality of the other’s soul. But as the minutes ticked by, the room was filled both with the lusty noises of fucking and the soft, breathy sighs and murmurs of lovemaking. He held her as close as he possibly could; she kept her hands on his ass to bring him toward herself.

They didn’t actually need to speak to get their sentiments across, but it felt better, somehow, to vocalize on occasion. So when he knew they were both perched on the edge of sweet orgasm, he kissed her deeply while they silently agreed to keep their eyes open, to look into each other’s gaze as they came.

But the “I love you"s came out loud. The visual connection, he suspected, kept them throbbing far longer than usual.

 

* * *

 

They had settled onto the mattress in content exhaustion, in almost the same position they’d been in upon finishing, and it was 3 AM before they heard the main door to the suite open and someone urged someone else to be quiet.

Tomorrow morning, they would meet everyone in the little common room and order room service breakfast, gossiping about the others at Shibusen, telling jokes, recounting stories of missions. It would be the very definition of contentment.

But this, he thought as he felt Maka’s breathing, was another definition of contentment. Joy settled into Soul’s whole being as he drifted off to sleep.


	3. 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maka and Soul's third year.

Another New Year in a hotel.

This was quite different from the last. This year, they came in wearily, cold permeating through to their bones; the thought that they might melt crossed their minds as the heat of the lobby engulfed them. Nonetheless, they welcomed it.

Maka ignored the small group of people who stood at the front desk and stared. She and her partner didn’t look great - frozen hair still messy from the fight, thin cuts to their cheeks and hands, frozen-muddy clothes. But she also knew they had saved a lot of people in this town tonight. Another soul-hungry kishin was off the streets and Soul’s and Maka’s injuries from it were routine, nothing a good scrubbing and a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix.

But dear Death was it cold. They had thought December 31 in New England was always cold. It was downright balmy compared to December 31 in Yakutsk.

Maka’s face lit up when they reached the hotel room door. “I almost forgot! We have a hot tub in this room.”

Soul fiddled with the key card for a moment before getting the strip in the right position. “Okay, but I might fall asleep in there.”

Nonetheless, he ran the water and added some of the supplied “soapless bath fragrance” while Maka called Ki– Lord Death in the mirror (which, fortunately, was not in view of the tub) to inform him that the menace of Yakutsk was no more. She showed no sign of impatience, but the instant she was dismissed, Maka was at the side of the tub.

They didn’t have the energy to be ceremonial about it, so they tore off their clothes - some of which would be irreparable, all of which would need washing - and showered off in the little standing stall next to the tub, getting rid of the mud and sweat and kishin grime.

One is never too tired to be considerate of future hot tub occupants.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked her partner in battle and life when they stood, nude, looking into the roiling, steaming water.

“You,” he said with a sleepy grin. She kissed him, quick but full on the lips.

The bath scent Soul had chosen had a fragrance Maka couldn’t quite place, but the bottle said “шампанское” and, in smaller letters underneath, “champagne.”

As they slipped into the water, Maka moved as close as she could to Soul, resting her head on his shoulder as he and she both slid as far as possible under the invigorating heat. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, leaned his face on her forehead; she held tight to his chest and they reveled in being naked and warm next to each other. It did cross both their minds that it was special just to be alive together.

Kissing his neck started merely as something to do, an effort at staying awake despite being comfortable and exhausted. But he smelled nice, and she didn’t want to stop. For variety, she moved her lips to his earlobe, kissed and nibbled playfully.

He had thought they would ignore sex for tonight, being so exhausted, but her sensual touches were, intentionally or not, turning him on. He decided to go slowly, see if Maka noticed and if she would also want what he was rapidly coming to crave. He wondered if she would see his arousal in the water through all the jets and currents.

Her hands played across his chest, lazy but loving. And further down they went, until–

She took his hardness in her grasp and gave him a mischievous smirk.

He could only hum, a little apologetic, a little questioning, eyebrows high up.

She began to stroke him. His grin broadened, and he moved his grip from her shoulder to her shapely ass, turned his head toward her for a deep French kiss. This went on for minutes as she pressed her whole body against him, slick from the bath.

When at last she found herself sitting on top of his lap even in the water, grinding on his hot length and panting against his lips, she paused.

“Time to get out?” she suggested. Soul grinned, led her out of the tub, and started mopping her facetiously with a towel. She shoved it back in his face and returned the favor until they had dried each other - except for one or two key parts.

She sat on his lap in bed, too, the better to enjoy his girth as it hit her in just the right spot. Their lovemaking was slow, languid, all about enjoying the sensation of being joined both in body and soul. When she leaned in for an embrace, her bare breasts rubbed his bare chest and they kissed each other greedily.

While he truly cherished the moments when they came in unison, Soul also loved saving his orgasm until he’d felt her climax around him, so strong and satisfying around his sensitive erection, such an intimate reassurance that he could please her. He liked to lose himself in the signs of her pleasure, a nibbled lip, a tightened grip on his shoulder, a contented hum and, eventually, gasp after breathy gasp when she was ascending to the height of it all.

He encouraged her, in little murmurs and sighs, to come first for him, _please_ , and when she did, the orgasm rolled in slow and strong. It was less like an explosion and more like a wave, rhythmically consuming her shores and his, and her voice was soft and sweet and tantalizing in his ears.

And when she slowed down, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He  _finally_ let go of his seed, throbbing into her with a sigh; she held her place and leaned her forehead on his. She had a few seconds to take in everything he did when he came: the way his cheeks were on fire, the way his teeth were visible in his open mouth, the way he swore and mouthed her name reverently no matter how many times they’d done this.

The towels were suitable for drying off again. They held each other.

It had been rough. Today was rough. The years had been - well, they’d had their ups and downs, but sometimes, they felt the weight of the new responsibilities that kept falling on their shoulders and weren’t sure they could stand up and bear it all.

But they had each other; he had a stubborn, fiery angel and she had a thoughtful, snarky musician and together, they could face anything.

In the distance, there were fireworks.

“Happy New Year,” they murmured at the same time, to each other and to friends who were thousands of miles away for another day or two.

An hour later, as he drifted back to consciousness for a few seconds, he heard her sigh, loud in the dark.

“Wha’s wrong?” he asked.

“Oh! Nothing. I just…realized we’re gonna need to shower again.”

“Mmm. There’s always another one. In the morning.” He tightened his grip around her and she nuzzled his chest.


	4. 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soul and Maka's fourth year as a romantic couple.

As much as he just wanted to ask, he couldn’t. Well – he shouldn’t. Not now. There were too many people around; no matter how gentle, how unobtrusive his whisper, someone might overhear. And no matter how sentimental his intentions, it would be too much pressure for such an honest, intimate moment.

“Psst, look,” Maka said, tugging on his arm. She pointed to one of the Gallows mansion balconies, which was dimly illuminated by lights from inside. Two silhouettes bustled about. “They’re getting ready.”

Revelation postponed, Soul relaxed and glanced at his pocket watch. “They’ve only got two minutes,” he observed.

Maka giggled. “Yeah, but Patti doesn’t need more than that to prepare the explosives.” Soul conceded the truth with a knowing grin. Anyway, nobody would be more precise about giving the midnight signal than the new Lord Death.

As if he knew they were concerned, Kid appeared at that same balcony, and his voice rang out. “Good evening, happy New Year, and thank you all for coming,” he announced. “We only have a few moments left in this old year, but first, I wanted to express one last time how much it means to have some of our greatest witch diplomats celebrating with us tonight.” There was a light murmuring of approval from the crowd. “Just as we had a wonderful time attending your New Year celebration, we hope you have a wonderful time at ours. It feels like another step forward for the whole world.

“And now, without further ado, let us begin the countdown! Elizabeth, Patricia, be ready! Ten…!”

Maka reached for Soul’s hand and counted down with gusto. Soul joined with a quieter voice.

In just a few breaths, the old year slipped away, and the new one began somewhere in Maka’s kiss. The Thompsons ushered it in with bright fireworks, straight from the Gallows balcony to the sky above, a beacon to the partygoers and a greeting to Crona’s black moon.

Soul watched Maka gaze at the explosions and reflect, embracing her from behind and letting her tuck her head under his chin. She would never admit to being cold, but he had the urge to protect her from the chill desert air anyway. She leaned back into him a bit and together, they watched the spectacle unfold, at once remembering and hoping.

Patti really had done an incredible job putting these together.

The moment didn’t feel right until they were in their room for the night, getting ready to settle into bed. She sidled up to him under the comforter, murmuring “ _We have a tradition now, don’t we, Soul_?”

Soul’s pulse skyrocketed as he realized it – this was the moment he’d been waiting for. If he didn’t do it now, he’d miss their anniversary entirely. He swallowed, and Maka gave him a nervous look.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, probably too fiercely, and joined with her in a kiss. As they parted for air and before he could overthink it, he whispered against her lips: “Please, Maka. Marry me.”

She was quiet just long enough for him to realize anew that if this was too much, he had no way to take it back.

“Oh, Soul,” she breathed, “if you didn’t ask soon, I was gonna just ask you myself.”

Soul sighed and leaned his forehead on hers. His cheeks weren’t sufficient to contain his smile. “Death, Maka, that would’ve saved me a lot of anxiety.”

Maka kissed his nose. “Heh. I wanted to see you do it, though.”

“ _Worth it_ ,” he muttered, pressing a French kiss to Maka’s, to _his fiancee’s_ soft, warm, lovely mouth. He wanted to know nothing but her for the rest of the night; he wanted to live surrounded by the heat of her skin and the music of her winged soul. As she pulled him closer, Soul wondered at how a subtle, stodgy artsy type like him could have captured the attention of a soul as vivacious and expansive as Maka’s.

Fortunately, she made it easy to get lost in the moment, pulling him on top in a sort of grinding cuddle. For all the times they’d touched each other so thoroughly – kissing and rubbing, making love and getting off – there was something unique about every occasion. This time, their partnership had grown again. Their already-sparse nightclothes hit the floor.

Soul kissed and nipped at the tender skin in the front of Maka’s neck, holding back from leaving any marks; it made her chuckle happily and he massaged her breast. She turned, the better to take him in from behind.

As she pushed back, Soul leaned over to suck and bite the nape of her neck. She shivered at his attention and bucked against him, and he couldn’t silence a rough sigh when he slipped inside her.

In hot, wet tandem, they moved.

Thrusting into her from behind entailed orgasmic pleasure, but still, Soul wanted to come face-to-face with his fiancee. When he got a little closer – and knew she was getting there, too – he nudged Maka, hoping she would turn over. She did so readily, emerald eyes winking.

They moved quickly together now, souls resonating, joined by mouths and bodies, arms embracing. Maka’s tongue caressed Soul’s, curling to a rhythm he matched with his hips. Her climax brought his, or his climax brought hers – it was impossible to put an order to it.

After the disruptive-but-essential cleanup, they nestled under the blankets once again, satisfied in their hearts, their bones, and their souls.

“Hmm, Soul,” Maka slurred, not bothering to pronounce through the sleepiness.

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna want to elope?”

Soul’s eyes flew open. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

Maka smiled. “We can think about it later. I just figured you wouldn’t want a big public party.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t want all of Death City and the Witches’ Realm, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of heresy if Kid doesn’t officiate and ‘Star isn’t my best man, right?”

Maka agreed.


	5. 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soul and Maka's first year as a married couple.

Ten minutes to midnight in the training forest found a slight warmth retained by the soil, in comparison to the cold of the desert nighttime outside. Death City as a whole was a bit puzzled that Lord Death wasn’t around to ring in the new year, but Maka and the ones dearest to her knew the reason why.

She and Soul, together with Kid the officiant and their eight most important people (Maka’s parents [both in the same place without any screaming!], Wes, Gran, Black Star, Tsubaki, Liz, and Patti, all under Crona’s Black Blood moon) gathered out here for a wedding ceremony.

For Maka and Soul’s wedding ceremony. It was small by design, really just an acknowledgment of formal customs, but it felt like the right thing to do.

They did refrain from seeing each other all day before the wedding (ostensibly, it was “for luck”; in reality, Maka wanted them to surprise each other). But since neither partner planned on hiding out in the woods before the night’s event and there was no aisle down which to walk, they stood before each other now at the ceremony’s beginning, Soul in a suit of Maka’s favorite colors, Maka in a traditional Death City wedding dress.

Her groom, Maka noticed, was pink under the gazes of their friends and family. She could sense his anxiety under the confidence of his suit, and she would have liked to sidle up next to him instead of staying where she stood across from him.

Kid, the most authoritative and formidable in his formal Lord Death attire, glanced between Maka and Soul. He caught their eyes and nodded to ensure their readiness before looking out into the tiny audience. “Welcome! Friends, family, loved ones. This is quite an intimate ceremony, and I think it needs no introduction,” he began. “Each of–”

“Hang on,” Soul interrupted. “I, uh, know we didn’t plan it this way, but I - I did write my own vows.”

Maka raised her eyebrows, surprised. This was a reach for him, though he wouldn’t admit his fear of talking in front of people. She was aware of an expectant silence from the guests and witnesses.

“Ah! Okay, Soul, you may begin instead,” Kid answered, obviously as caught aback as Maka.

“Maka,” Soul said, with a meaningful look. He squared his shoulders to her and held his right hand out to her left hand. She accepted his grasp; resonance flowed through the connection. He stepped back with caution, murmuring “Careful,” and from this same arm he allowed his scythe keyboard to burst sideways, until it arched between the two of them.

And with the hand she wasn’t holding, he struck the first chord.

It was absolutely nothing like anything Maka had ever heard from him - not even like songs he’d written as gifts. This also couldn’t be a purely physical sound, since there was no way a person could play this way one-handed - Soul was using abilities they’d practiced together to project his soul.

Higher-pitched and more utterly triumphant than his usual sound, images of their time together - the green hope of new beginnings, triumphant golden epiphanies, the deep wine color of their first desirous cuddles, the starry joy of adventures survived together - brought tears to her eyes. At the end of the song, Soul retracted the keyboard to stunned silence.

“We worked together for this, too, Maka - and now I can’t wait to be your partner forever. I promise.” He stepped forward, movements as tender as his quiet voice, and took her other hand, too. “In every way.”

There were a few sounds of endearment from their friends and family as Maka let his words sink in.

Meanwhile, among their loved ones, Black Star (who had indeed been made Soul's best man, though it was too small a ceremony for him to have any responsibilities) was breaking the magic of the moment. “Wait, what did he say? I could barely hear him…”

“Too late, shut up,” Liz hissed, stepping on Black Star’s foot. Their bushin friend made an insulted noise.

Maka, who knew when an interruption was needed, laughed. Less shy in front of a crowd, she let her voice ring out, loud and clear.

“Being on a team with you is the most exciting thing I can imagine, Soul.”

She paused, still a bit taken aback. Maka had thought about what she would say in theory, but had not known Soul would actually surprise her this way, so she had no time to craft her words. She battled the urge to minimize what she meant, and fought for the most genuine words. “When I started to realize that life itself is a battle, and it never really ends, I was depressed. But then I realized a couple things - we’ll always have challenges, and I love challenges. Especially when I get to overcome them with you. Nothing makes me look forward to the future as much as knowing it will be spent with you. I love you, Soul. And I promise I’ll also be your partner forever. No matter what.”

“I would be remiss in my responsibilities,” Kid began after giving their small audience a moment to murmur, “to encourage romance between those who are essentially my soldiers. The trappings of romantic love can easily become a burden on the battlefield. But…where it blooms strong and true, I do not believe it is my place to forbid it, either. These two have accepted the risks of battling this world’s madness together for years. They are equipped to accept the risks of life together, too. So do you, Maka, take Soul to be your lawfully wedded husband, your partner for life?”

“I do,” said Maka, fervent.

“And do you, Soul, take Maka to be your lawfully wedded wife, your partner for life?”

“I do,” Soul answered with a fond smile.

Kid nodded. “Then here we are - it is eight seconds to midnight. You have committed to each other for life, in sickness, in madness, in health.”

Maka heard Kid’s words, but her focus was on her partner. Already, he was leaning in.

“If you agree, you may seal your promise with a kiss - and happy New Year.”

So lost in the kiss was she that Maka did not, at first, recognize the booms in her chest as the fireworks from Death City.

 

* * *

 

They rushed home. There was no reception, not really; it had already been planned that those in attendance would go off and celebrate in the city, as they customarily did (when no one was off on a mission, anyway). While Soul and Maka might have dawdled at an ordinary New Year party, Soul was not keen on spending more time than necessary with a bunch of people analyzing their relationship no matter how flattering they were trying to be, and Maka had to agree. While they wanted to share their ceremony with their most important people, tonight was to be private.

Despite this warm moment in bed being just one of many before and many to come, a single frame in the moving picture of their lives, she still felt it was a consummation.

They had sworn in front of their friends, and the God of Death, and the passage of Time itself, that they would be partners in every way, and partners for life. In light of their promise, Maka didn’t want to just witness her partner getting off. She didn’t just want to work off energy or engage in the sort of…team-building pleasure that sex often felt like.

Oh, those things alone were grand. But tonight, their sex was a dance to ring in the future.

Their slow movements challenged the near-ritualistic motions to which she had become so accustomed. Their kisses, longer than usual, teased a special sensation in the base of her spine that Maka wanted to last forever. It also made her ache with want. His suit and her dress were too great a barrier between them, but prolonged was the process of getting naked, because she couldn’t bear to leave his lips for long enough to take their clothes off.

Orgasm - hers or his - was not one of Maka’s goals as she straddled his hips and he slid inside her, gloriously warm. The thick sensation of holding him inside her while he held her in his arms was not one she was eager to end. It was the slowest love they had ever made.

But they were not used to this indulgent slowness, and sometimes, Soul would fall out when she thrust at a different pace than he. At first, she would bite her lip in embarrassment, and he would huff while he reached under her to place himself back at her entrance.

But after it happened a couple of times, he couldn’t hold back his increasing mirth. “Dammit, Maka,” he said finally, chuckling, and as she met his eyes, they both burst into a deep belly laugh.

After breaking the tension, they found a rhythm that worked, one that let her enjoy his languidly-moving length and allowed him deep inside her with every euphoric thrust. She even managed to lean forward enough for a deep kiss, enough to wrap her hands behind his head and for him to clutch her close to his chest. When her muscles grew tired and he shook with the effort of meeting her hips, she murmured, “Come with me.”

“Mmmm, fuck…you got it,” he sighed.

And, on the road to a more restful moment, they finished together at last.

Afterward, Maka let her eyes flutter closed. Soul’s heart beat underneath her head, and they joined hands again before the blissfully satisfied sleep of the deeply bonded swept over them.


	6. 2018

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soul and Maka practice a new skill they've learned in the past year. Kind of wingfic.

The snow spreads infinitely across the landscape and the soft colors - green, purple, blue - of the Northern Lights bounce off their coats. It’s cold out here, but also nothing they haven’t survived many times before.

Soul watches his breath dissipate in the air. He and Maka volunteered for a mission that has brought them far from Death City for this new year; it’s been a while since they celebrated alone, just the two of them. Here they stand, at the top of a hill in northern Norway, ready to kick off the next year with the help of a skill they’ve just learned. Maka thinks they’ve perfected it already, but only practice will tell.

“Something new this time. For our anniversary,” whispers Soul’s wife of one year exactly, burying her face in the plush red of the scarf that hangs down over his chest. Soul wraps his arms around her and squeezes.

It’s instinct to keep his voice low even though he doesn’t have to all the way out here. “This might be really cool. We can...do our usual later, if you want to.” His private thoughts rumble into his voice in a sort of gravelly manner, but he has it on good authority Maka likes that, so he exaggerates it a bit. She lifts her head so her chin is resting on his chest instead, her eyes bright, a lopsided smile pulling at her lips.

“Maybe, if we do it right...we can do it _here_.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Huh?!”

“Let’s see,” Maka says, holding her hands up to placate him. “If we get...you know. A good resonance going. It’s like being in two places at once, right?”

It sounds weird, but she is right - this ability lends itself to being conscious on two levels. Soul relaxes, leans down and kisses the cold tip of her nose. “Ready when you are, then.”

They stand chin-to-chest, gloved hands clasped together. He’s definitely her windbreaker right now, and she - although maybe a bit short for the job - is shielding him, too. Eyes closed in concentration, Soul answers Maka’s reach for a soul resonance.

This is the easy part. Her wavelength and his slip together as though this was their entire purpose, belying the amount of work it’s taken to get this good at it. Soul resonance can’t save you from the cold, but its electric energy can make you feel better.

Now for the harder part.

They’ve done this before, a little bit every day for the past week. It’s the sheer amount of energy and concentration they have to put into making it happen that threatens the certainty of their success, and it’s not the most useful skill in battle; it might be their most fun ability together to date, though, so it’s worth the effort.

Still clinging to Maka’s hands, Soul begins playing a special song in his head, first by visualizing his hands on the piano. The keyboard seems to spring into existence, an actual entity in his mind, and he can focus entirely on Maka receiving the music. She hums along, a great lover of this song - music he wrote based on her key, during many late nights, just for this purpose. He can feel her thoughts concentrated on something else, too: on envisioning wings. Two pairs of wings that will exist in their soul space just like his piano does.

The trick now is combining them.

From the mental vantage point their resonance offers, Soul can observe the wings Maka’s conjuring for the two of them. They’re stunning - reminiscent of the ones that come out of his scythe blade, but bigger, and sharp but beautiful - like Maka. She’s given them joints so they can function on a human body. There are as many feathers in the wings as there are notes in Soul’s song; the wings themselves are made of music staves from which pour the notes.

As they share their images, the wings begin to take form in the outside world. These do feel genuinely warm. They’re soul energy, body heat made real, growing out of Soul’s and Maka’s backs. It doesn’t hurt; it’s like standing in a warm shower, but dry.

Here they stand, at the top of a hill in northern Norway, two grown adult humans with wings. They’re a glowing soul-blue and slightly translucent.

“Yes!” Maka whisper-shouts, opening her eyes and admiring their work.

“Don’t lose focus,” Soul says.

“Psshh. They’re already here,” Maka says. “That was the hard part.”

He guesses so. So far, they don’t seem to go away unless the resonance ends. Flexing his wings is completely instinctive, so he tries them out, feeling like it’s the first time all over again; they’re just projections of their souls, as far as he can tell. Pumping them against the air resistance is awfully satisfying.

Maka, meanwhile, is still holding his hands, but has already started fluttering off the ground. “Let’s fly,” she says.

Soul doesn’t especially like to let go of Maka in these situations. The wings are hers in the first place, after all. Nonetheless, they give each other a little space to glide down the hill, cold flowing over and away from the surface of their wings. Music still surrounding their hearts and minds, they alight once in untouched snow before pushing off from the ground to go higher.

“How high can we go?” Maka asks, and Soul accepts it as a challenge. In the back of his thoughts, he reminds himself that they can take to old-fashioned winged-weapon form if something goes wrong and they start to fall.

The wings, versatile in every way, require some effort to push Soul and Maka further from the ground; once they’re in the air, though, they seem to have a magic that allows them to float and hover. Soul practices some maneuvering, and much to his delight, the maneuverability of his wings will let him get near Maka again without knocking her off balance.

“Hey, Maka,” he says, flying close.

“Hmm?” She asks, peering over her shoulder.

Soul sidles up behind her, wrapping his arms under the joints of her wings, resting his chin on her shoulder. They float together like some strange angel with twelve limbs - four wings, four arms, four legs. Their wings twitch up and down, fluttering in one place as though being pushed by a gentle vertical breeze. The distance imposed by their clothes is relieved somewhat by the affection with which Maka leans back into Soul’s embrace and the stubbornness with which Soul keeps his arms around Maka.

There is nothing whatsoever in the way of their souls, which press together unfettered by any clothing at all. When he opens his eyes in the physical world, he sees the Northern Lights. When he opens his eyes in their soul realm, he sees the rich colors of their resonance. In both places, he can hear the music that runs through them - music that runs through all their arteries and nerves and out into their wings.

“It’s beautiful...” Maka says of the Aurora Borealis, letting the last syllable hang thoughtfully in the air. She seems to have something else in mind, though - as he hums his agreement, she dips out of his grip so she can turn around and face him.

In the Norwegian sky, far away from the witness of the nearest town, two airborne figures embrace. Their thickly-insulated bodies are dwarfed by the size of their wings, which beat a slow turn in the air so neither will miss the full expanse of the sky. Their eyes meet, in the cold night air, in hot resonance, and they know - this will be a new take on an old tradition.

In the secret pocket of space their naked souls have made, the spirit of Soul kisses the spirit of Maka’s neck and a thrill runs down his spine when she tilts her head back with a giggle, bearing her throat for him to lick, kiss, bite. No marks will be left when they do it here. She sighs, and he chuckles, their music swelling up and up.

When she threads her fingers through his hair, Soul looks back into her eyes, all lit up with mischief. She’s decided she wants to be mouth-to-mouth with his soul _now_.

Outside, they kiss, but in here, they _kiss_ , hungry for the electricity between two souls taken form together. Soul has her held tightly, flush to his front. Maka does him one better by winding her leg around him, pulls herself up and down against his spectral nude body.

“O- _ooh_ ,” he moans, tipping his head back with the pleasure of her heat, hands on her ass to hold her closer.

In the cold air of the physical world, the aurora undulates, and the two cling together underneath it, kept warm by resonance wings and swift heartbeats.

In their private soul-space, Soul slips inside of Maka.

They thrust in rhythmic tandem, grinding front-to-front as though it were a dance. Their movements can’t be especially vigorous when they’re just floating together in resonance like this, but gentle friction at a harmonious pace between their most intimate parts is all they need to set each other aflame.

Through a lengthy, deep kiss, she breathes out his name, a long, tender syllable except where her voice halts with the motions of their hips coming together. Able to see, at the same time, a sky covered in green lights and the depths of Maka’s green eyes as she engulfs him, Soul can’t hold himself back anymore. When she says his name yet again, he comes, _swearing joyously_ , to the beat of their music and the beat of their wings.

Outside, where they hold each other and can't bear to separate their warm lips, Maka hums, “ _Mmhmmm, ah.._. _!_ ” Inside, Soul keeps moving, pushes through his own orgasm at just the pace he knows she likes, until the music hits its crescendo and she joins him at the climax.

When they’re done, he’s left with a familiar exhaustion, the desire to curl up and go to sleep. They don't end the resonance - that would be dangerous, wings holding them fifty or a hundred feet off the ground - but he does come out of his own head a little bit, gaining more consciousness for the cold outside and their bundled snow clothes. Maka, eyes just as hazy as he imagines his own must be, leads Soul slowly back to Earth, where they touch down once again in undisturbed snow to a slower, softer lilt of soul music.

“Ugh, Death. I need sleep,” Maka says, shoulders squared with satisfaction and a grin on her face despite her heavy eyelids.

Soul laughs. “What did we just do?” he asks, an entirely rhetorical question, because oh, he knows what they did. There's gonna be some cleanup involved.

“Something _weird_. It was nice, but I need sleep,” Maka repeats, at last letting her body fall against him.

“So do I. Come on - let’s go.”

“Hey Soul," she says, as they start back. "I wonder how long it's been since midnight.”

“It must have been a while. We only had a few minutes when we started.” And in those few minutes, watching the clock was the last thing on Soul’s mind.

The white snow on their way home is lit by the aurora.


End file.
